Second Chance
by sapphireambition
Summary: Sawyercentric: Sawyer and the tailaways are reunited with the rest of the survivors. Can they all put aside their differences and combat the threat to their camp by the Others? SK pairing.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** I've had this going on Lost-Forum for a couple of weeks and thought I'd go ahead and bring it over here. This is a Sawyercentric fic set after Episode 2.04, _Everybody Hates Hugo_. Rated T for language, eventual romance, and all-around snarkiness.

**Summary:** _By now, she was probably shacked up with the Doc in a nice, state-of-the-art cave with a damn white picket bamboo fence out in front. They'd get married – probably with the Bald Messiah performing the ceremony – and go off on their honeymoon where they'd feed each other pineapple and have eight minutes of missionary-type sex every night._

* * *

**Chapter One**

Sawyer was cold.

His teeth chattered as another chill racked his body, hitting him so suddenly that it damn near stole his breath. No, cold didn't even come close to summing up how he felt; he was fucking _freezing_. With a scowl, he snatched the blanket that Rambina had casually tossed him, shivering as he curled beneath it like a damn toddler.

How in the hell could he be so cold when it was at least a hundred degrees in this godforsaken bunker?

Jack's warning after Sayid had carved up his arm all those weeks ago echoed in Sawyer's mind. _For two days you're going to think you're all good… the day after that the fever's going to come and you're going to start seeing red lines running up and down your arm._

It'd been exactly three days since he'd gotten shot.

Son of a bitch.

Sawyer used the wall to prop himself into an upright position before he unbuttoned his shirt just enough to study the wound in his shoulder. Sure enough, the damn thing was infected, pus oozing out of the center and red lines stemming from it like a macabre spider web.

Well didn't _that_ just figure. He'd survived a plane crash, evaded loan sharks, _real _sharks and polar bears in his lifetime, only to be killed by an infected flesh wound.

He laughed, a short, bitter sound that held absolutely no humor. Finally, the giant clusterfuck that had been his life was going to end. He'd been expecting it; hell, over the years he'd looked for it time and time again. With every con, he'd push it farther, raise the stakes in the hope that maybe the next pissed-off husband would be competent enough to catch up with him and put him out of his misery.

No such luck.

Somehow he'd always managed to be a little smarter, a little faster than all of his marks. Even the goddamn mafia hadn't managed to catch him when he'd ripped off a hundred grand from right under their noses. He couldn't deny that there was a certain thrill that came with each successful grift, but there was another part of him that wanted it to end already. But he couldn't just walk away from what he'd become, it wasn't that simple. He'd chosen his path a long time ago. Whether he liked it or not, he _was_ Sawyer.

There was only one out for him now. Ol' Mikey'd pegged it on the raft, alright.

He'd _wanted_ to die.

Hell, in thirty-six years, what had he accomplished, anyway? Not a goddamn thing. He couldn't even track down the bastard who'd killed his parents. Instead, he'd gone from a punk, to a grifter, to a murderer.

Even here, where he'd been given a clean slate, he'd still managed to fuck it up. He wasn't going to apologize for looking out for number one – he didn't need or want to be part of Captain Jack's grand utopian vision – but it did eat at him that he'd managed to alienate the one person on this damn island who gave a rat's ass whether he lived or died.

He'd done a good job of it, too; pissed her off enough to make her leave without even telling him goodbye.

Kate. In a way, it was fitting that his last thoughts would be of her.

By now, she was probably shacked up with the Doc in a nice, state-of-the-art cave with a damn white picket bamboo fence out in front. They'd get married – probably with the Bald Messiah performing the ceremony – and go off on their honeymoon where they'd feed each other pineapple and have eight minutes of missionary-type sex every night.

The part of him that wasn't a selfish asshole knew that it was for the best.

The part of him that _was_ a selfish asshole wondered why he gave a damn.

_Because you have feelings for her, dumbass._

And wasn't now a hell of a time to figure that out?

"Sawyer?" Michael's voice brought him out of his reverie. He felt a cool hand cover his forehead and he opened his eyes, blinking until Michael's face came into focus. "You're burning up, man." Sawyer watched as Mike turned to their captors, or _hosts_, who were watching from across the room. "We need to get him to the other side of the island, to the doctor there. The fever's getting worse."

"Not gonna happen." Sawyer wasn't surprised to hear Xena pipe right up with a scratch in the 'Let the Redneck Son of a Bitch Die' column. "It's too risky. Look at him, he can barely sit up. It'd take two of us to carry his ass, and if _they_ find us, we won't stand a chance."

He should know better by now, but no way could he keep his mouth shut after that comment. "Well gee, sweetheart, if you want to keep me all to yourself, you should just say so," he drawled, smirking at the glare she shot in his direction.

"Shut up." Ana stalked over to him, her gaze settling on the inflamed wound in his shoulder. Something flashed in her eyes – he'd have guessed it was concern, if the chick hadn't stuck her _boot_ in the fucking thing a couple days ago. When she met his gaze, her face had settled into its usual ice bitch expression.

Concern. Yeah, right. Fever had to be worse than he thought for _that _hallucination.

"You know what? Since you're clearly well enough to be a smartass, there's no reason why you can't haul your own weight," Ana told him matter-of-factly, her eyes flat, hard. She pushed herself to her feet, turning to face the rest of the group. "Fine. Our odds are going to be a lot better in a larger group, but we need to get there by nightfall. Grab only what you need and let's move out."

Not a single person argued or asked questions. Sawyer had to give the Devilita her due; when she gave an order, things got done. The others were packed and ready to go within ten minutes, and within fifteen, they were trekking through the jungle.

The first half hour or so wasn't too bad. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to take one step at a time, bracing his good arm against Michael's shoulder. One foot in front of the other. Easy enough. A wave of nausea swept over him, but he tamped it down and forced his feet to keep moving. He wasn't giving Ana the satisfaction of seeing him stumble.

Sawyer managed to make it another hour before the pain became too much and he finally collapsed. He was scarcely aware of the hands on him, could barely make out the voices above him. More pain, a sudden sharp edge, and he closed his eyes against the force of it.

"Hang on, buddy." He recognized Michael's voice. Barely. "Jin, help me get him up!"

"Why the hell didn't you say something?"

"Just leave him. We'll bring your doctor back."

"We can't just _leave_ him here!"

"What if we went back to camp?"

"It's too late to go back."

"The wound is festering. He doesn't have much time."

"…infected…"

"…blood poisoning…"

"…he's gonna die…"

"Ezz googa mufoo orrrrrrragheeeee tuma?"

A question, directed at him. He caught that much. Sawyer forced his eyes to open, and damned if there weren't _two_ Rambinas crouched beside him. He swallowed, smirked up at them.

He supposed there were worse ways to go out than beneath a pair of dominatrix Mexican twins.

Sawyer closed his eyes, saw a vivid image of long curly brown hair, green eyes, lithe curves and freckles. He held onto it even as the voices faded around him.

Yeah, there were worse ways to go out… but there were better ways, too.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Sawyer awakened to the smell of smoke.

It wasn't the satisfying, nicotine-laced kind that came from a freshly-lit Marlboro Red. No, this was thick, stifling; the type of smoke that could only come from fire. He could hear the crackling of flames nearby, feel the searing heat of the blaze on his skin.

His mouth thinned in grim realization. He supposed a part of him had always known that his choices in life would lead him here; he _had_ grown up in the bible belt, after all.

Unlike Oceanic flight eight-fifteen, it appeared that his one way, nonstop flight to Hell had arrived right on schedule.

He probably should have been scared, or at least a little repentant, but after the last month and a half, there really wasn't a whole lot that rattled him anymore.

Bring it on, Beelzebub.

Sawyer shifted slightly, felt a sharp stab of pain in his shoulder. "Ow, son of a _bitch!"_ _Damn_ it, who'd have guessed that people take their mortal injuries with them into the afterlife? Mrs. Grier sure as hell didn't tell 'em _that_ in the Sunday school classes his mama had dragged him to as a kid.

He heard a rustling noise beside him and nearly jumped out of his skin. What now, was the Devil was going to come welcome him personally? "Sawyer?" The voice was tentative, familiar.

Funny how Satan sounded an awful lot like Jack.

Sawyer opened his eyes, and damned if the good doctor wasn't standing right over him. He blinked once to make sure his eyes weren't playing tricks on him. They weren't; Jack was actually hovering over him with, oh hell, a shit-eating on his face. A _relieved_ shit-eating grin. With a groan, Sawyer let his head fall back against the pillow. "Yep, definitely Hell," he muttered, slowly exhaling the breath he'd been holding.

Jack let out a short laugh, shaking his head as he leaned in to look at Sawyer's shoulder. "How do you feel?"

"Like I got _shot." _He probably shouldn't have sounded like such an asshole – the man had apparently saved his life, again – but what kind of stupid ass question was that? _How do you feel._ What the hell was he supposed to say; that he felt like Riverdancing?

But if Jack was pissed, he didn't show it, continuing his examination as if Sawyer hadn't said a word. "Any nausea or dizziness?"

"No." Fine, he'd play nice while the Doc asked his questions. Although… "Next question better not be about hookers or STD's," he warned with a glare.

_That_ got a genuine laugh out of him. Jackass. "No, not this time," Jack chuckled, pushing himself to his feet. "The infection's gone and the injury looks like it's healing nicely. You'll be on antibiotics for two weeks, but as long as you take it easy, you're going to be fine."

"Been there, done that," Sawyer reminded him, gritting his teeth as he sat up and glanced around. Sure enough, he was back at the caves, resting on a makeshift cot near the large bonfire pit. A couple of people were up and about, but it looked like most of the camp had already gone down for the night.

And there was no sign of Kate. Again. What was he expecting, a bedside vigil? He'd _humiliated_ her, for fuck's sake. She was probably out there mourning the fact that he didn't drown.

"Lay down, Sawyer," Jack ordered, using his Doctor voice for emphasis. Any other time, Sawyer would have given him hell for it, but right now, he was in too much damn pain to bother. "You need to keep physical exertion to a minimum for another day or two."

_Another_ day or two? His gaze narrowed on Jack. "How long have I been out?"

Jack's expression turned serious, contemplative. Sawyer was too adept at reading people to miss the fact that the Doc clearly didn't want to tell him something. "How long," he demanded.

It was another few seconds before Jack finally spoke. "Three days. Your fever hit a hundred and seven, and at one point your heart stopped. It's a miracle you survived."

"Figured as much," Sawyer paused to grab the bottle of water sitting next to him. He took a long swallow before continuing. "What else ain't you tellin' me?"

Jack turned back to him, surprised. Guess he wasn't expecting to have bullshit called on him so soon. He bowed his head, took a deep breath. "It's the Others. They've—"

"Jack!" The voice was sharp, female, and more pissed off than Sawyer had ever heard it. He turned toward it, but his view was blocked by Captain Hero's backside. "You_ drugged _me?"

_What?_

"Kate…"

"I was fine, Jack. I've gone longer without sleep, believe me. You had _no_ right—"

"He's awake," Jack interrupted quietly, and Sawyer inwardly cursed the man. Just when things were starting to get interesting.

Kate stepped out from in front of Jack, and Sawyer's breath caught in his throat. Being face-to-face with her again hit him like a fist to the gut. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, her hair was wild and mussed, and her clothes were wrinkled, as if she'd been wearing them for days. The woman looked like she'd been to hell and back.

Hell, who was he kidding? She looked _great._

She took a hesitant step toward him. The expression on her face damn near broke his heart, but it was her eyes that got him. There were more emotions reflected there than he could decipher; relief, concern, and something else that he was afraid to examine too closely. For a split second, that front she worked so hard to maintain was gone and all he could do was stare at her like some lovesick puppy.

She swallowed once, blinking a few times to compose herself. When her eyes returned to his, her features had schooled into a carefully blank mask that revealed absolutely nothing. The girl could teach Jack a few things about concealing emotions.

Kate knelt beside him, her lips curving into a polite smile. "Hey." Sawyer caught movement out of the corner of his eye and looked down, saw her hand reach tentatively for his. She caught him watching and pursed her lips, placing her hand in her lap. "You look better."

Sawyer sighed. So it was going to be like that. Fine, two could play at this game. His gaze lingered on her hand long enough to make a point before his eyes lifted to hers, his mouth twisting into a knowing grin. "So you missed me, huh Freckles?"

His words had their desired effect. A spark of irritation flashed in her eyes, and in the firelight, he could see the faint color that tinged her cheeks. She didn't like knowing that _he_ knew he'd gotten to her.

A part of him felt bad for baiting her like that, but damn it, he wanted to see more than that front she constantly wore around everybody else.

He wanted to see something real, like what was in her eyes a few seconds ago.

Kate rolled her eyes and gave him a look that would've probably sent any other man running for the hills. "Don't flatter yourself," she retorted dryly, but she didn't get up like he thought she would. To his surprise, her expression softened, not completely, but enough. It was a concession. "I'm glad you're okay, Sawyer. I was—"

Terrified screams, authorative shouts and the heavy fall of footsteps interrupted whatever she was about to say. He looked up and saw Ana and Shaft running at an all-out sprint toward Jack. Sawyer had been so absorbed in seeing Kate again that he'd completely forgotten the Doc was there. Kate rose to her feet and Sawyer pushed himself up, wincing as a fresh wave of pain radiated from the wound in his shoulder.

Ana's eyes flicked to Sawyer, giving him a quick, cursory glance before she turned her attention to Jack. "They got another one. A girl," she informed him, her expression grim.

Another one? What the hell was she talking about?

Jack's words came back to him right then. The Others. They were here.

Oh _fuck._

"Who was it," Jack demanded. "Where did it happen? Is she…"

"Dead," Ana confirmed with a short nod. "Young woman, blonde hair. Can't remember her name. Her body is less than thirty yards from the outskirts of the camp. I'll take you there."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

"I'm coming with you," Kate said immediately, her eyes challenging as she met Jack's gaze. It was almost enough to make Sawyer laugh out loud. He'd seen that statement coming from a mile away; hell, it was practically her mantra. The woman couldn't sit still more than a few minutes, especially when she was feeling threatened.

And he was fluent enough in Freckles-ese to know that while Kate was anxious to find out the identity of the chick that was murdered, a lot of her motivation here was that she wanted to get as far away from him as possible.

When the going gets tough, Kate runs like hell.

Jack apparently knew it too, and judging by the look on his face, he wasn't happy about it. The Doc opened his mouth to speak, but Rambina cut him off. "No, you're not. You stay here. Watch him," she nodded curtly toward Sawyer.

He was about to interject that he didn't need a damn bodyguard when Kate took a step toward Ana Lucia. "I said I'm coming," she repeated firmly, her gaze unblinking as she sized up the other woman.

Sawyer started to stand up to intervene, but Jack stepped between the two women before it could go any further. "Both of you, stop it. We don't have time for this right now. Kate, stay here." He pulled the gun from his waistband and handed it to Kate, his eyes pleading for her to stand down. "Look after Sawyer. I'll be back as soon as I can."

Kate's eyes remained on Ana, and for a few seconds, Sawyer was sure that they were going to throw down in spite of Jack's warning. There was no doubt in his mind that Kate wouldn't take kindly to this new broad pissing in her territory, and now Jack, in all his brilliance, had just given her a gun.

Smooth move, dumbass.

"Kate." Her gaze flicked up to Jack; he placed a hand on her shoulder. Sawyer rolled his eyes. All they needed was a sappy ballad playing in the background and it'd be Jerry Maguire. "Please."

After a while, she grudgingly nodded and took a step back. Jack's mouth curved for the briefest of moments before he trailed Ana Lucia and Eko into the jungle. A muscle worked in Kate's jaw as she turned and kneeled beside Sawyer. His eyebrows shot up, and a ghost of a smile flitted at her lips. "She's, um…"

"A bossy little bitch?" Sawyer supplied helpfully.

Her smile widened with something between exasperation and amusement, her hands settling on her hips in a gesture that was both sassy and flat out sexy. "Glad to see you haven't lost your way with words."

"Fits her though, don't it?"

She glared pointedly at him, but the wry humor in her eyes confirmed that she was in total agreement with his 'bitch' assessment. "That's one way of putting it," she said finally, looking up to briefly scan the area before her gaze settled back on him. "They've had a hard time of it on the other side of the island, you know. Sixteen of them were killed; one by one, they murdered them, and then they kidnapped the two children who survived. They took the kids _right from them_ like it was nothing."

Sawyer straightened. "Mike know about this?"

"Yeah, of course, and we _tried_ sending out a search party for Walt, but these people are impossible to track. The few times Eko's seen them, it's been pure luck. We planned to go into the jungle tomorrow to find Rousseau, see if maybe she knew something that could help us find them."

He snorted. "Right. Go through the jungle and track down the crazy French chick with the sawed-off shotgun; meanwhile, the rest of us just sit here like fish in a damn barrel waiting for Hannibal Lector and his tribe to pick us off." Her expression instantly became defensive, and he held up his hand before she could bite his head off. "No, I ain't got a better idea, I'm just sayin'." He paused for a moment, looking out toward the jungle. "Who do you think it is out there?"

A shadow crossed over her features as she followed Sawyer's gaze. "A young woman with blonde hair. I doubt it's Claire or Shannon; Charlie and Sayid stay pretty close to them, so that leaves Rebecca or Kim. I don't know."

Sawyer couldn't help but be a little relieved at that. Not that he wished any of them dead, but he was glad that it wasn't Claire out there, being a new mom and all. No kid should ever have to lose its mama. "Who else'd they get?"

Kate sighed. "Locke found Edward yesterday, a few yards from camp. Most of the bones in his arms and legs were broken, along with his neck."

Wait a second…"Wasn't that exactly what the crazy son of a bitch who kidnapped Claire did when he killed Steve?"

"You mean _Scott,_ and yeah, it was." Kate rose slightly and took a seat beside him on the cot. Sawyer shifted slightly to give her some room and nearly groaned as her arm lightly brushed his. Such a simple movement, yet his body was acutely aware of it, of _her,_ wild hair, disheveled clothes and all. And the woman smelled _way_ too damn good for someone who's been up for a couple days.

Jesus, he was a pervert. Here he was, fresh off a near-death experience and waiting for word on the murder of one of their camp; then Kate touches him and now all he could think about was getting a roll. It wasn't just pathetic – it was downright embarrassing.

Sawyer quickly scooted over, but in his haste inadvertently put too much weight on his bad arm, causing his shoulder wound to flare painfully. "Damn it!" Well, at least now he wouldn't be thinking about sex for a while. He'd bought himself a good five or six minutes of gutter-free thought, easily.

He felt her hands on him and gritted his teeth. Nope, he had maybe three minutes, tops; two if she kept touching him like that. "Are you okay," she asked, concern in her voice.

"I'm fine," he snapped with a glare. She immediately drew back, placing her hands back in her lap. He cursed himself for being an asshole, again, but hell, he'd done the right thing, hadn't he? What was he supposed to tell her, _'Kate, please take your hands off of me because I'm about three rubs from a raging hard-on, and I can only handle _one_ throbbing body part at a time, thanks.'_

Yeah, that'd go over_ real_ well.

He cast her a sidelong glance, caught her looking out into the jungle where Jack had gone. Damn. "Look, if you want to go out there and find them, then go, just find someone to take with you first. The Goonies might still be out there."

Kate shook her head. "No, Jack's right. I need to stay here with you."

Oh, she needed to stay because Saint Jack decreed it. To hell with that. "I don't need you playin' nursemaid here, Freckles. I can take care of myself just fine."

She laughed. The woman actually threw her head back and _laughed._ "Please, in the month and a half that I've known you, you've managed to get yourself punched, kicked, clubbed, tackled—"

"If I remember right, Sweetness, _you_ were the one who tackled me."

"_Tortured,_ stabbed, attacked by a boar, shot…"

"_Alright, _you made your damn point," he muttered irritably. She flashed him a saucy grin, and he had to struggle to maintain his glower. It proved to be a losing battle; that little smile kicked his ass, and he felt his own mouth curve slightly in response.

The conversation was easier after that, with both of them falling into their familiar, teasing banter. It beat the hell out of sitting and worrying; besides, he'd missed her company. Damned if he'd ever admit it, but it was the truth. He told her about the raft journey, the sharks, and the fun of meeting the tail-end survivors.

"She _hit_ you," Kate asked incredulously.

"Couple of times," he nodded solemnly, but knew the cocky grin twisting his lips spoiled the innocent effect. "You gonna go beat her up for me?"

"That depends," she replied, not missing a beat. "What'd you say to her?"

"What did _I_ say to _her?"_

"You _do_ have a way of pushing people's buttons, Sawyer."

Damn, she had him there. "The chick's a couple cans short of a six-pack, in any case."

"Yeah she is, and she's not endearing herself to anyone by criticizing Jack. He's been a good leader; even _you _have to admit it."

Sawyer shrugged. Maybe so, but that's another one of those things he'd never 'fess up to in his lifetime.

He heard the soft fall of footsteps and glanced up. Jack was approaching them; Rambina and Shaft were nowhere to be seen. "Who was it," Kate asked without preamble.

Jack pursed his lips, his brow furrowing in regret. "Rebecca. Ana Lucia and Eko are bringing her body back so that we can do a proper burial in the morning." The frustration in his tone was clear; even Sawyer had figured out that each life lost took a little bit of Jack's soul. "We can't stay here. The watches aren't working. Tomorrow morning after the funeral, we're moving everyone into the hatch."

The hatch? What in the hell was the hatch? "Jack, how are we going to fit all those people into—"

"We'll discuss it in the morning, Kate. Right now, I want you to get some more rest. I'll stay with him." As much as he wanted to, Sawyer couldn't argue that one with the Doc, because hell, he was right. She _did_ need to rest. Like it or not, he knew without a doubt that Jack honestly cared for Kate.

Bastard.

"First thing in the morning," she confirmed, pushing herself to her feet. She glanced back and forth between the two men, offered a tentative smile. "Good night Jack, Sawyer. You two play nice while I'm gone."

Sawyer scowled. Jack let out an uneasy laugh. "Good night, Kate."

"Sweet dreams, Freckles." With that parting drawl, Sawyer let his eyes drift shut.


	4. Chapter 4

Someone was arguing.

Sawyer was actually grateful for the low, pissy voices that brought him out of the hellish nightmare that still haunted him every single night. He immediately recognized Jack's voice, and it took every ounce of restraint he possessed not to smirk at the Doc's authorative tone.

Jacko was giving someone orders. Wasn't _that_ a shocker?

He started to open his eyes when Rambina cut in abruptly, "You're a fool, Jack. Why put everybody at risk like that? They're both dead. Leave them where they are and move everyone else out of here."

"No, I'm not going to just leave them, Ana," Jack replied firmly. "And their names were Edward and Rebecca. They're people we've eaten with, slept beside, laughed with for the last fifty-two days. We're going to say goodbye to them."

Well, well, well, Captain Hero and G.I. Jane were butting heads. Sawyer decided to play possum just a little bit longer; this was too good to interrupt just yet.

"Say goodbye to _what?_ They're already gone. They won't care if they don't get flowers and a prayer because _they're dead." _Her words were slow, deliberate, with a condescending tone that even a damn two-year-old could've picked up.

Someone really needed to slap that woman.

"We're having the funeral this morning, Ana. End of discussion." There was a pause, then the sound of footsteps approaching his cot. Sawyer was careful to keep his breathing slow, even. It wouldn't do to have them know that he was awake, not yet.

After what seemed like an eternity, Jack spoke again, lowering his voice enough that Sawyer had to strain to make out the words. "Look, if you don't like the way that I'm running things, then you're more than welcome to leave, but don't think that you can come in here and just take over. We've been here just as long as you have; we know how to survive out here."

"You've survived this long because they've been too busy picking _us_ off on the other side of the damn island to pay any attention to _your _side," Ana Lucia countered. "They have their sights on you now, and in case Bubba's wound there didn't tip you off, these people are armed. They're dangerous, and they don't play by the rules. You gather everyone together in the open and how many people do you think they'll be able to take before you can get us out of there? It's a stupid risk."

"Nothing is going to happen." Sawyer could tell the Doc's patience had damn near reached its limit. "If you want to help Locke, Sayid and Eko scout the area, that'd be great. You can even set up lookouts if that'll make you feel more comfortable, but no more second-guessing me, Ana. We're all in this together. Edward and Rebecca deserve to be put to rest."

Sawyer felt his temples start to pound as the sniping continued. As entertaining as it was being a fly on the wall for this little spat, he was sorely tempted to sneak out of there and hope that the two of them screwed each other stupid. Maybe then the rest of the group would finally be able to get some damn peace. He'd never met two people more in need of a roll in the hay in his life.

Neither of them said anything for a while, then irritated sigh finally broke the silence. "For all of our sakes, I hope you're right, Jack." Rambina actually gave in. How about that? "I'll scout with Eko and the other two, but you be ready to haul ass out of there if I give a signal, got it?"

"Sayid and Locke," Jack interjected quietly. "Why don't you want to learn our names, Ana? Do you think that not knowing who they are will make it less personal if they end up dead?"

She scoffed, but for once, there wasn't any derision in the sound, only a jaded resignation. "You sound like Libby. One shrink is about as much as I can stand."

"Libby sounds like a smart woman."

"Libby's good people. A pain in the ass sometimes, but good people."

Jack let out a short laugh. "I'm going to tell you the same thing that you told me back at the airport bar: the worst part's over. One way or another, we're going to get through this."

"Yeah." It was clear that she didn't really believe it, but Sawyer was more interested in the Doc's surprising revelation. These two met in a bar in Sydney? Was there anybody on this island that wasn't connected with Jack somehow? "You coming with us to find this French woman later on?"

"No, I need to stay here with Sawyer. He's not out of the woods quite yet."

"He'll pull through, if only to piss you off," Ana Lucia replied with wry certainty. Sawyer was grateful that his hand was still underneath the blanket; that way, he could flip her off with no repercussions. "Are you going to tell her? Kate," she amended quickly. "Are you going to tell Kate about yesterday?"

It was becoming increasingly difficult for Sawyer to feign sleep. What was Xena talking about? Tell Kate what? "No," Jack replied flatly. "Even if it _was _real, it's not my place to tell her."

"Have you told her how _you_ feel about her yet?"

Jack laughed, but the sound held no humor. "How I feel," he repeated in exasperation. "Tell me something, why is every conversation with you either an argument or an interrogation? If I didn't know better, I'd think you were a cop."

"Funny," Ana Lucia retorted, but she didn't deny it. A cop. It didn't surprise Sawyer one damn bit. No wonder the chick irritated the hell out of him. "Someone needs to be blunt with you here. And I'll take that evasion as a 'no' to my question."

"You can take it however you want," Jack replied stubbornly.

"Fair enough." There was a light shuffling noise before Ana spoke again. "I'm gonna go scout, but let me give you a piece of advice. Whether you like it or not, Kate feels something for him. Don't need a cop's eyes to see that. So if you're gonna make a move, you'd better stop pussyfooting around, unless you want to see the cowboy ride off into the sunset with your girl."

"Look, it's not like that. You don't know her." _Yeah, neither do you,_ Sawyer thought caustically. "Kate's the kind of person who can't stand to see someone else in pain. That's all. She _doesn't_ have feelings for him." There was an edge of desperation to Jack's voice, like he was trying to convince himself what he'd said was true.

But that was impossible. Jack couldn't seriously see _him_ as a threat to he and Kate's happily ever after bliss, could he?

"Right." Ana's tone wasn't derisive or condescending this time. It was knowing, almost pitying. "I'll see ya. Watch your back." Sawyer heard a light fall of footsteps that gradually grew more distant as Ana walked away. Looks like the Doc had won that round.

Barely.

He had to give Ana props for calling Jack on his feelings for Kate and the fact that he didn't have the stones to do anything about it.

Just like his old man. That apple sure didn't fall far from the tree.

The Doc was a damn fool.

But then again, Rambina also seemed to think that Kate had feelings for _him._ It was ridiculous... but then again, cops were able to pick up on that sort of thing, weren't they? And Freckles _had _stayed with him for nearly three nights straight. That was a little above and beyond the realm of sympathy.

Hot damn, he'd actually gotten to her.

Kate _liked_ him.

"I know you're awake." Jack's curt voice interrupted his reverie. "I can see you smiling."

Fucking dimples. Sawyer cursed inwardly, opening his eyes to glare at Jack. "Maybe I was havin' a good dream."

"Uh huh," Jack replied dryly, kneeling beside him and pulling off the bandage on his shoulder. Sawyer's gaze drifted to the wound. It was still red, ugly, but it looked a damn sight better than it had a few days ago. "How's it feeling today?"

"I'm conscious, ain't I? Figure that has to be a good sign." It actually didn't feel too bad. The thing still hurt, but it felt more like he'd slept on it wrong as opposed to the constant, blinding pain from before. But the Doc had just told Ana that he still wasn't out of the woods yet. His gaze lifted to Jack as he tried to keep his voice casual. "Why, do you think it's bad?"

"It nearly killed you. Of course it's bad." Jack picked up a prescription bottle from the coffee tray and opened it, spilling two large white pills into his hand. "But like I told you last night, as long as you take it easy and keep up on your antibiotics, you'll be fine."

Yeah, right. "Then why'd you tell Robobitch I'm not out of the woods yet?"

Jack slammed the pills onto the tray, pushing himself to his feet. If Sawyer didn't know better, he'd think he just struck a nerve with the man. Nah. "So you were eavesdropping that whole time?"

"Kinda hard not to, with the two of you bickering like a damn married couple three feet from my bed," Sawyer shot back, completely unrepentant. What the hell; since everything was out in the open now, he may as well try to get some answers. "What exactly is it that you're hiding from Kate, Doc?"

"That's none of your business," Jack warned quietly.

"Sure seems like it's my business, seeing as it concerns me and all," Sawyer drawled in return. He didn't know that for sure, but it seemed like an accurate guess from what Ana had implied.

"No. It doesn't concern you, Sawyer." There was finality in Jack's tone as he turned to walk away. He halted after a few steps, placing his hands on his hips. "What do you want with her," he finally asked, without turning around.

What did he want with Kate. The laugh that escaped was bitter, even for him. Of course Saint Jack would assume that Sawyer was only interested in _getting something_ from her. Well, far be it from him to shatter Jack's illusions. "I've been on this island for over a month, stuck livin' like a damn monk. What do you _think_ I want with her," he sneered back.

His words got their desired reaction. Jack turned to face him and Sawyer pushed himself up into a sitting position, certain the Doc was going to come over and clock him. "She's too good for you," Jack said vehemently.

"But she ain't good enough for you, is that it?" Sawyer stood up, his eyes hard as they settled on Jack. To hell with illusions; enough was enough. "You want her, but a fugitive don't fit into your perfect little world. That why you haven't 'fessed up to her about how you feel?"

"Shut up." Jack closed the distance between them until they were nose to nose. It registered somewhere in the back of Sawyer's mind that he was indeed taller than Jack. "Kate and I are none of your business."

It wasn't a denial. Sawyer gave a knowing smirk as he stepped around Jack, fighting back the urge to knock some sense into the man. No, he wasn't probably wasn't good enough for Kate, but at least he accepted her for who she was. He trusted her as far as he could throw Hurley, but hell, he understood that she did what she had to do in order to survive.

He related to that all too well.

The others were gathered near the cave entrance, the A-Team at the front and armed to the teeth. He wasn't at all surprised to see Kate right there with them, loading a fresh clip into a Sig Nine. She looked up, her brow furrowing in concern as she met his eyes. She broke off from the group and headed toward them. Exhaling slowly, Sawyer turned to glance at Jack. "Always knew you were a damn fool, Doc," he said quietly, the usual smartass bravado completely absent from his voice. "But I never would have guessed that you're a bigger asshole than I am."


End file.
